


We Cross Our Bridges When We Come to Them

by Chash



Series: Charity Drive 2017 [22]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 05:53:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11708163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: It's not really any weirder to continue a relationship with someone you found asleep on a bus than it is to start it in the first place, so really everyone's mostly just happy Clarke is coming back to the States.Even if it's still a little surreal.





	We Cross Our Bridges When We Come to Them

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bethanyactually](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethanyactually/gifts).



**Me** : If I book a flight that arrives in the middle of the night, you're going to worry, right?

 **Bellamy** : You know public transportation stops running at some point  
If you get in late enough you're going to fall asleep in a taxi  
Which doesn't make me feel any better, by the way  
But whenever you get in you know I'm going to be there to pick you up  
So try to book something that won't make me miserable, okay?  
You're rich, you can afford to get the good flights that come in at normal human times

Clarke grins down at the phone, feeling kind of ridiculously happy and wondering how it's possible. It's not exactly a surprise that her relationship with Bellamy is, so far, the weirdest of her life. In a way, the weirdest part is how well it's going, considering they're not in the same geographic location, are rarely awake and on their phones at the same time, and met because she fell asleep on a bus. It feels as if they should be falling apart, but instead they're in a pretty decent holding pattern, chatting and getting to know each other through periodic texts, emails, and even snapchat, once Clarke talks Bellamy into signing up.

He's not _officially_ her boyfriend, she doesn't think. But she'll be living in Boston in a month, and making the title official is the second thing on her to-do list, after, well, _him_. She's excited about the move for a lot of reasons--being closer to friends and family, a great new job, a city she loves--but she'll admit that Bellamy is a much larger factor than she expected.

It's hard to miss someone you've only sort of met, but she does. She wants so much more of him.

 **Me** : I'll pay for the taxi if we need one

 **Bellamy** : It's the least you can do  
Just forward me the stuff with like two weeks' notice so I can get coverage at work if I need it

 **Me** : I was going to tell you that you don't have to come pick me up  
But fuck that  
I want you to come pick me up

 **Bellamy** : Yeah that's what I figured  
I wasn't feeling obligated  
I'm just looking forward to seeing you

 **Me** : Me too  
Okay  
I'm going to book a flight that gets in at seven  
I'll buy you dinner after  
To thank you for picking me up

 **Bellamy** : You're going to be a jetlagged mess  
Can't wait for you to pass out on your plate

 **Me** : Shut up

 **Bellamy** : I'm used to it, remember?  
You falling asleep is the basis of our relationship  
Just forward me the details  
And then go to sleep, it's late over there

 **Me** : I'm going as soon as I finish this  
But thanks for worrying

 **Bellamy** : It's kind of my thing, yeah

 **Me** : Okay  
Flight booked  
Thirty-two days from today  
I forwarded you the email  
And I'm going to sleep

 **Bellamy** : Good  
Sleep well  
See you in thirty-two days

 **Me** : Yeah  
Looking forward to it

*

Bellamy knows he doesn't really have any reason to be nervous about Clarke. Then again, he's _never_ had any reason to be nervous about Clarke, but he always is, every time he actually stops to think about the whole thing. It felt implausible and unrealistic _before_ she sent him a text that said, _I feel like I should mention my mom's the governor_ , with a link to Abigail Griffin's wikipedia article. It feels like the most elaborate and pointless prank ever played, and he's still waiting for someone to explain what the joke is.

But no one has, so he's waiting at the airport for Clarke to show up, shifting back and forth on his feet as she complains about customs via text. She's so _close_. And he thinks this could even turn out well. They really do get along. Their text messages are a little delayed because of their schedules, but the conversation is natural and easy. They have similar taste in media, with just enough differences in opinion to make things interesting, and their values line up well.

It all sounds really academic, but when he worries about the theoretical nature of it, he remembers that night they had together, and the next morning, the way the surrealism of the entire encounter wasn't actually enough to get in the way of a natural connection.

Plus, some _really fucking good_ kissing.

 **Weird bus girl** : Okay  
I'm finally done  
On my way to baggage claim  
Sorry to make you wait

 **Me** : I don't mind  
You are buying me dinner

 **Weird bus girl** : I am  
And I'm jetlagged, which I know you're into  
The real test of our relationship is gonna be when I'm awake

 **Me** : Oh good  
Can't wait

 **Weird bus girl** : Hey, I'm the one who should be stressed  
I know I like regular you

Every time he remembers Clarke is somehow worried _he's_ not into her, he gets a little thrill of joy and confidence. This girl really likes him, somehow. That's not even close to an issue. He's so sure.

The worst part of waiting is making himself wait where he said he was, sitting on a bench by Clarke's baggage claim, trying not to glance around non-stop. He has a new book, an interesting one, even, but he's just reading the same paragraph over and over, not understanding it at all.

Given how little luck he's having concentrating, it makes no sense that he's so absorbed in trying to read that he misses Clarke until she sits down next to him.

"Good book?" she asks, sounding amused, and he startles up, nearly dropping his phone. She looks tired and a little punchy, but just as lovely and warm as ever, and he finds himself ducking his head as he smiles.

"Yeah, but I have no idea what I was reading."

"No?"

He shrugs his shoulder, helplessly happy to see her. "Couldn't stop thinking about you."

She reaches over and takes his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Well, I'm here. You ready to go?"

"Ready," he says, and lets her tug him up. Once he's vertical and looking at her, he can't help leaning down and kissing her, quick, and the taste of her smile reassures him it was the right choice. "Welcome back," he says.

She leans against his side, practically purring. "Thanks."

*

She does fall asleep in the taxi.

It's not a surprise on about a hundred different levels. It's not just the jetlag, it's the stress of the move, of the end of the semester, even of seeing Bellamy again, of not being sure how that would go.

That, at least, she apparently didn't have to worry about.

"I can't believe you've never been kidnapped," he says, amused, when she stirs awake at his touch. It's so _nice_ , seeing his face in person. It's so much better than periodic selfies and snaps. "How did no one find you and ransom you to your mother?"

"I've never actually met a politician's kid who got kidnapped and ransomed, honestly. Movies might have lied to you, Bellamy."

"Movies would never lie to me."

"I have a lot of bad news."

"Tell me over dinner," he says. "Come on, wake up, pay the cab driver."

"I really might fall asleep on my plate," she admits, sheepish.

"Yeah, I kind of figured. I told him to take us to my place instead."

"Your place?"

"Takeout. You can fall asleep on my couch instead. It's less public. No paparazzi getting pictures of the governor's daughter passed out."

He's got her bag when she finishes paying, a faint flush on his neck, and she leans up to kiss his cheek.

"Thanks."

"So, not creepy? Bringing you home with me."

"You know we've been friends for months, right?" She considers, but she's tired and she doesn't want to go to her new apartment tonight. She just wants to be with him. "I told my friends you were my boyfriend."

He snorts, juggling the bag and his keys. "Did you explain how I became your boyfriend or just kind of gloss over that part?"

"Well, I said we were taking it slow."

"That's one word for it. Your friends are poor and bitter so I'm assuming you won't judge my apartment," he adds.

"Just for decorations. Is Miller home?"

"No, he's at Monty's tonight." He opens and closes his mouth, shakes his head. "If you minded, you'd tell me, so I'm just going to assume this is all good until you tell me otherwise."

"This is great," she says, and kisses his shoulder. "I wanted to spend tonight with you anyway."

"No offense, but I'm pretty sure you're way too exhausted to have sex right now," he says, dry, not sounding even a little upset about it. Before she can reply, he unlocks the apartment and turns on the light. The living room and kitchen are joint, about the same size as in Raven's apartment, and it feels a little cramped in the same way, but not _bad_. The couch is worn and the posters are fraying and it feels like Bellamy's been here for a while, like this is his _place_ , and she likes that.

"We can have sex _soon_ ," she says, absent. "It doesn't have to be tonight."

"No. Uh, living room, obviously," he says, gesturing vaguely. "That's Miller's room in there, closet, bathroom, and this is my room." 

It's similar to the living room, near with fairly minimal decoration. Nice hardwood floors, a fairly sturdy chest of drawers that looks secondhand, a desk and a bunch of bookshelves. The bed, at this moment, looks like the most comfortable thing she's ever seen, and she lets herself just flop back onto it, groaning in pleasure.

"Jesus, you're a fucking mess," he says, sounding fond. "It's going to be so weird to interact with you when you're fully conscious."

"Don't worry, it doesn't happen that often."

She feels the bed sag as he sits next to her, and then his hand slides into her hair, rubbing gently. She does get why he's nervous, and part of her feels like she should be too. It shouldn't be this nice or this easy. But it _is_. It's just good, being with him, and she leans into the touch.

"I'm going to work on that," he says. "Sleep is good for you, Clarke."

"You don't get enough sleep either," she says.

"We can be good influences on each other. Do you actually want something to eat, or are you just going to pass out?"

"I'll eat something, but maybe not much."

"Any American food you're craving?"

"Greasy pizza."

He laughs, she assumes because the request is so quick. It's not like English pizza was _bad_ , but it never had the distinctly unhealthy taste of cheap American pizza that she could find, and she misses it. "And garlic bread?"

She groans. "You're awesome, you know that?"

"You keep telling me." He leans down to kiss her forehead. "You need anything? Water? Iced tea? I'm not giving you alcohol right now."

"Spoilsport. Water, please. Thanks."

"No problem." Even without being able to see him, the pause feels significant. "That's what boyfriends are for, right?"

Warmth curls in her chest. "I hope so, yeah."

*

 **Miller** : How's your bus girlfriend?

 **Me** : At some point I think she just becomes my regular girlfriend  
Probably now  
She's good  
Fell asleep

 **Miller** : It doesn't worry you that she finds you incredibly boring?

 **Me** : She's curled up in my bed  
It's hard to take that that as a bad sign

 **Miller** : Every time I remember this is working out for you it feels like someone is walking over my grave

 **Me** : Sorry about my happiness  
I know that's tough for you to deal with

 **Miller** : Yeah, I hate your joy  
Seriously though  
It's not even like you won the lottery  
It's like you found a lottery ticket on the train and checked the numbers on a whim and won the jackpot  
I'm happy for you  
I just don't get how this ever happened

 **Me** : That makes two of us, yeah  
I assume I'm taking her home in the morning so we might not be here when you get back  
But she lives here now, so you're going to meet her  
Because she's my girlfriend

 **Miller** : I got that  
Grats

Bellamy closes his phone and gets it plugged in, turns his attention to Clarke instead. She did come to the couch to eat instead of staying on the bed, and they put Netflix on, but he still had to half-bully her into actually eating, and once she was done, she did just curl into his side and fall asleep again. Which isn't surprising, given her long day and the time difference, but--it's still adorable.

He shakes her shoulder gently, smiling when she makes a face and curls closer.

"I have a bed, remember?" he tells her. "You can sleep somewhere comfortable."

"You're comfortable."

"My bed's better." He stands and offers his hands, pulls her up when she takes them. He probably should be expecting the kiss, but somehow he isn't; Clarke wants to kiss him a lot more than he realizes.

"I feel like I haven't thanked you enough."

"I feel like I'm not really doing anything special," he teases. "If we keep having this conversation, our relationship is going to be really fucking boring. It's already getting old."

Clarke laughs. "Okay, well--I think you're special."

"Cool. I like when my significant others like me. It's a good first step. You should--brush your teeth? Change into pajamas? Whatever you want to do for bed."

"It's still pretty early," she points out. "I should stay up later."

"Yeah, that wasn't really working out for you. Look, I'm not an expert," he adds, which is an understatement, "but I asked google and it said jetlag fucks you up. If you wake up early, I'll live. I wake up early all the time."

It's the wrong thing to say, because Clarke does, in fact, know a lot about his life. It's easy to forget because she's such a weird part of said life, this almost mythological creature, someone who still feels like a hallucination half the time. But Clarke is, in fact, real and still fairly competent and intelligent even when sleep deprived. "Did you take time off tomorrow too?"

"My summer classes haven't started yet so it was just switching a shift at the coffee shop. I figured you might need help with--moving sucks."

This kiss isn't a surprise, which is nice. He gets to enjoy it, and he really _does_. His cryptid girlfriend is really the best. He's looking forward to starting to feel like she's not a weird fever dream.

"I'm thanking you because I appreciate you," she says.

"Appreciation is cool. I don't mind appreciation. Just--" He has to smile. "I like hanging out with you. I want to do it a lot more. It's worth switching my schedule around."

"I still appreciate it. And I feel like I need to start turning my life upside down for you," she adds.

It sounds like teasing, so he takes it as such. "Give it like a week," he says. "You can do it when you're rested and unpacked. I've just got a head start, don't be jealous." He leans down for another kiss. "Seriously, go brush your teeth, your mouth tastes gross."

Her laugh is bright and delighted. "Don't be a dick, Bellamy."

"Yeah, bad news. I'm always kind of a dick."

"Just kind of." She steps out of his arms, going to his room to find her things. When he follows, he sees her stripping out of her clothes, and since she catches his eye and smiles before unhooking her bra, he doesn't feel bad watching. She's _gorgeous_ , no surprise, and he doesn't mind that he's not going to get laid tonight, but he is still excited to get laid sometime soon. That's going to be awesome.

She shrugs on a tank top, which doesn't do anything to hide how fantastic her breasts are, and grins at him. "You're the kind of dick I'm into."

"Romantic," he teases, and strips down to his boxers while she brushes her teeth.

It's probably their second date, and it feels like he's doing it wrong, but just because he thinks dates are supposed to be these formal, awkward things, especially this early on, not hanging out in his apartment in pajamas and going to sleep before midnight.

Not that he and Clarke aren't awkward, obviously. But the good kind of awkward. The kind of awkward he could get used to.

He's reading when she comes back, and she leans against the door for a second, watching him with open appreciation. He does look pretty great with no shirt on, if he does say so himself.

"I can't wait to be awake enough to have sex with you," she says, and he laughs.

"I'll believe it when I see it."

"Tomorrow," she says, coming to the bed and settling in against him, sighing with contentment.

"Tomorrow," he agrees, and presses a kiss to her hair.

*

 **Clarke** : Don't get mad  
But I fell asleep on the train

 **Bellamy** : Honestly I'm proud of you  
It's been four months  
I thought it would happen way sooner  
Everything okay?  
Where are you?

 **Clarke** : Alewife  
Someone clearing out the train woke me up  
So I'm just coming back your way  
I didn't sleep that well that night and I did have to stay late

 **Bellamy** : Yeah, I was a little worried about that  
Next time I'll come get you

 **Clarke** : As always, you don't have to  
But if you want to, I won't mind

 **Bellamy** : Cool  
ETA?

 **Clarke** : Eight?  
If you have Thai when I get there, I'll love you forever 

**Bellamy** : Oh good  
I was wondering what it would take  
See you soon

 **Clarke** : As always  
Can't wait


End file.
